


Moonlight Sonata

by desperationandgin



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-01
Updated: 2015-04-01
Packaged: 2018-03-20 18:43:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,182
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3661032
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/desperationandgin/pseuds/desperationandgin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Robin follows the sound of piano music and finds the last person he expects.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Moonlight Sonata

**Author's Note:**

> In Storybrooke, Regina has a piano in her home. Once I remembered that, this fic was born.

The castle is, for the most part, a quiet place at night. There’s a near constant hum of chatter during the days, people coming in and out, meals being shared together in the dining hall. But in the evenings, people retreat to the spaces Regina has allowed for sleeping, the places that make sense. The Merry Men still sleep outside for the most part under the queen’s protection spell, but out of a sense of extra precaution Robin sleeps with his boy indoors, near the kitchens in one of the warmest rooms. This night, however, four separate flying monkey attacks have driven even the hardiest of Robin’s men indoors, which is making for the space normally only shared by Robin and Roland (and a stuffed animal) a bit cramped. Not that Robin doesn’t enjoy the camaraderie (Roland loves all the people he knows being right there with them), but out in the forest they can all spread out a bit. The warmth of the room, that the previous night was welcome, is now stifling. Once Roland is asleep, and knowing he’s well protected, Robin slips out of the room quietly, taking a deep breath of much cooler air as he stands still for a moment in the shadows of the castle walls.

It takes a few seconds to adjust to the sounds around him; the wind making different windows creak, soft whispers of people speaking, and snoring off in the distance. But when he does, he hears what is unmistakably music. Piano music, at that. There are times he plays a small wooden flute for Roland’s entertainment, but it’s hardly anything other than silly. What he’s hearing now is a specific piece, something that sounds composed, and he makes his way through the castle only to stop when he realizes he’s beginning to encroach on the queen’s private space. Her chambers and beyond have been marked as off limits to anyone without the title of ‘queen’ in their name - her words. But the piano playing is more clear now, and the realization that it must be Regina playing drives him forward. He’s sure she’ll tell him to leave right away, perhaps even use some sort of magic to get her point across, but before that, he might be able to listen for a moment. Walking past her private room, Robin tilts his head a bit and turns left, down a hallway lined with mirrors until stopping in front of a partly open door which he slips through easily. When he focuses and finds Regina, she’s a sight he never could have imagined, let alone think he might see first hand.

His vantage point gives him a profiled view of her and it’s so breathtaking that he doesn’t even hear the music, he only sees  _her_. Her hair is down in dark, inky waves, all of it piled over one shoulder. And she’s makeup free, not even so much as a hint of rouge on her cheeks which lets him freely see the scar on her lip and how deep it actually is, wondering what it’s from. She’s fascinating to watch, her eyes fluttering closed as she plays a rather morose sonata, fingers gliding over the keys smoothly. It’s quite clear to him that the queen has played for a long while, though it’s not surprising considering her station in life. He can’t imagine she  _doesn’t_  know at least a few other things young ladies are taught in childhood and adolescence. Glancing around the room makes him realize this is some sort of private library, three walls with built in bookcases stacked high with tomes. Against the furthest wall is what looks like a laboratory of sorts and he realizes it must be where she practices the magic of potions. It all seems a bit random, surrounded by magic and then to have this, a piano she sits behind to play music that must match the way her heart feels.

He’s been fascinated with her since their tête-à-tête in her chambers after Zelena’s grand introduction. She’s not once reciprocated that fascination; he has no reason to think the queen cares at all for him, and yet his instinct is to look out for her. To accompany her any time she leaves the castle grounds even though she insists she can protect herself. There would be worry she’s getting fed up with him if she didn’t leave him things like golden arrows, then deny it was for any reason other than him being incompetent and needing a weapon that guides itself. (She’s seen him hit a target flying in the air on the attack, he knows she believes in his accuracy.) She is abrasive with him for reasons he can’t begin to understand, and so Robin knows he should leave now before his encroaching on her space is noticed.

“What in the _hell_ are you doing here?”

Too late, then.

“Ah, your majesty,” he begins with an easy smile, meeting her gaze. “I heard something beautiful and I followed my ears. I apologize, I didn’t realize I’d trespassed so far into your private sanctuary.” He bows just a bit - more of a show of respect to her, hoping she’ll let it go as he turns to leave.

“You thought it was beautiful?”

The question in her voice makes him pause and turn back to look at her. And Gods, she is a vision, facing him now and somehow looking years younger, the weight of makeup off of her face. The only thing keeping her from seeming like a young woman are the decades of memories that haunt her eyes, bright as they are in this moment. “Yes, milady. I…didn’t take you for a pianist.”

“I haven’t played in years. I thought I might not remember how to play well, but I suppose ingrained habits die hard,” Regina comments with a soft sigh as she turns back to the keys.

He realizes then that she hasn’t asked him to leave, she hasn’t demanded he leave her in peace, and he steps forward a bit, slowly, as if not wanting to startle her. “You’ve played for quite some time, then?”

Her fingers take up a soft, one handed melody then as she nods. “As long as I can remember. It’s like learning to read. I don’t remember a specific day I could, just that suddenly I was good at it, and my mother seemed so proud that I could play well in front of visiting dignitaries,” she says with a smile that seems fond before it sours. “I hated it. Being on display that way. Once, I hid from her. I knew that as long as the prince and king were visiting, she would never punish me.”

Robin is listening in rapt fascination, wondering what he’s done to earn her opening up this way. “And once they left?”

“Oh. I was punished. I knew even as I hid away that she would be furious. But for a day I just wanted to know what it was like to be free.” She says that last word as if she’s never known a moment of freedom in her life, her other hand joining in again on the piano.

“Why are you playing now, if you hated it so much?” He can’t help it, he’s curious, and he only hopes that his question doesn’t get him sent away.

Regina meets his gaze for a half second before looking back at the keys. “I had a piano in Storybrooke. It was just… _there_  with everything else after the curse. It went untouched for eighteen years. And then, I adopted Henry.” When she says his name there’s a wavering in her voice, a breath inhaled and released slowly. “He must have been…almost three, and there was a storm so loud that it shook the house. It was the middle of the night and he refused to sleep, terrified of the thunder. I didn’t know what to do to keep him occupied, so I went downstairs with him and sat behind the piano. He was absolutely fascinated the second my fingers touched the keys and sat right beside me, quiet and still. When I finished a short song…” Regina pauses to laugh softly, ducking her head. “He said ‘beautiful, mama’ and from then on, any time he was upset, I played. For about three years, playing the piano was just for him. He grew out of it, and then….he figured out who I really was. But I thought if I played now it might…”

When she trails off, he can see the way tears are shining in the corner of her eye, so he finishes her sentence for her, voice soft. “You thought it might help with the ache of missing him.” When she nods, he feels his own heart ache in his chest for her, knowing that he’s being given a rare opportunity to see her this way, vulnerable and for once, open. It makes him wonder if when she’s grieving this deeply, she simply can’t maintain the facade she carries of aloofness. Or, perhaps that’s a show for the benefit of someone else, the reputation she feels she might as well uphold. “And does it?” His voice is soft, almost as if she might take flight if he speaks too loudly.

“No,” she replies to him, fingers pausing for a moment. “Nothing helps. Nothing takes away the ache of losing your only child.”

Robin thinks about that, wonders what he would ever do if he and Roland were separated by time and space, and no, he supposes. Nothing would help ease that pain. “Have you resigned yourself to aching forever, milady?”

Regina closes her eyes and lets out a weary sigh, one that comes from her bones and settles in the air like sorrow. “I don’t want to. But it’s nearly impossible to imagine feeling any other way.”

Quiet passes then, save for her playing, and Robin chooses his next words carefully. “Might I ask…why you’ve let me stay and listen this evening? You’ve told me to leave your sight for less than seeing you dressed down for bed.” Her fingers halt then, and Gods, he’s done it, now he regrets opening his mouth, but then she says something that shocks him, simply because it’s not nearly related to his question.

“How long have you had your tattoo?” Regina asks, staring at him with a focused gaze before dropping her eyes to his arm.

Pushing his sleeve up, he watches her take a breath and exhale before he shrugs a bit and replies. “I believe time was still for what, twenty eight years? Let’s just say I was very young. It was long before Roland or Marian were ever in my life.”

Her eyes finally drag from his arm back up to his face. “I see.”

“Why? Is it important?”

“No. It’s means nothing,” she replies, then drops her hands to her lap. “And it’s time for you to leave.”

Dammit to hell, but at least she isn’t yelling or threatening, so he tries, once more. “You let me watch you this evening. Why?”

“It was a fluke. The next time I find you here you…” She trails off, and as he watches, it’s as if all the energy she might have had is sapped from her, her eyes transforming to annoyed to grieving again in a blink. “Please. Just go.”

It’s the most confounding thing he’s ever seen, and more than anything now he wants to reach out to her. His hand hovers, then rests on her shoulder. “Be peaceful, your majesty.” It’s just a quick squeeze, mindful of the way she tenses, and he turns to go, making it just to the entryway before her voice calls out.

“Thief.”

He pauses, back to her as he looks up at the ceiling, wondering why she can’t simply call him by his name. “Yes, milady?”

“I play every night. At Henry’s bedtime.”

For a moment he wonders why she’s telling him if she’s already asked him to leave. But then it dawns on him; it isn’t simple information. It’s an invitation.

“Now. Leave.”

Her curt tone is a reminder that this won’t be spoken of, that she’ll never accept casual conversation regarding it, and that nothing has quite changed between them. When he turns to look at her he can see that her head is tilted a bit, listening for his footsteps, lips curved upward.

“My apologies again for intruding, milady.” And then Robin goes, closing the door behind him and walking away a few paces before pausing. She’d been smiling, he’s sure of it, and he listens as she begins playing again, something slightly less morose this time. He smiles to himself and notes the approximate time (ten in the evening, if he’s not entirely off base) and makes his way back to his son. She perplexes him, the queen, but perhaps with a bit of persistence she can be puzzled out. And, Robin hopes, perhaps he begin to soothe the aching of her heart. 


End file.
